Sgt. Hulka: Maybe you'd like to take a swing at me.
John Winger: I 'd like to take a big swing at you, sarge.
Sgt. Hulka: Well, go ahead and give it your best shot.
John Winger: I don't think I want to go to the stockade.
Sgt. Hulka: I'll take my hat off. There we are, Winger. Ain't no more drill sergeant. It's just you and me, kid, man to man. So go ahead, give it your best shot. Swing at me. Gutless. Punk.
[Winger fakes, then tries to hit Sgt. Hulka, who ducks and punches Winger in his stomach, dropping him to his knees, gasping for breath.]
Sgt. Hulka: [putting his hat back on] I'm willing to forget this little incident. And I want you to think real hard about it. And maybe someday you'll understand what the hell I'm talking about.
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